


Partners in Crime

by CavalierConvoy



Series: Kings and Queens of the Underground [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Drinking, Drunken Flirting, Escort Mission, Gambling, Gaming, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Other, Public Display of Affection, Shore Leave, What Happens On Monacus Stays On Monacus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The <i>Cogs of Combat </i>Galactic Invitational Finals are held at Monacus this stellar cycle, and two of the top players in the Arm, get an invite to participate. With a grand prize of fifty-thousand shanix, it would be foolish to say no. </p><p>Rodimus has a plan: why bank solely on Cavalier to bring home the prize? Monacus was a gamblers' haven, a smugglers' den. Constructing an away team with skills necessary to help strengthen the <i>Lost Light</i>'s coffers, what could possibly go wrong? </p><p>Everything, in Hoist's opinion as he finds himself the sole responsible mech on the team. Everything.</p><p>Meanwhile, on the <i>Weak Anthropic Principle</i>, Misfire manages to convince Crankcase that it is for the benefit of the Scavengers to allow him to participate in this stel's competition, and, much to Fulcrum's chagrin, with a chaperon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Round One: Bullfight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enfilade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enfilade/gifts), [jmercedesd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmercedesd/gifts), [LibraryMinion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMinion/gifts).



> Inspired by [We Ain't Got No Money, We Ain't Got No Right](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3657120) by Enfilade. Cogs of Combat and the Galactic Gaming Network was created by her.

You got blood on your face  
Looks like you're a total disgrace  
You came here to take me down  
But I only see one of us on the ground  
—["Round 1/Bullfight"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY3Q98j4nPE) by Jeff Williams, featuring Lamar Hall, from _Red vs. Blue Season 9_  
  


_Lost Light_  
~~Captain's~~ Co-Captain's office, Command deck  
Two sols out of New Iacon, Cybertron

The office had been whitewashed, the garish pink still evident through the third coat. The walls had been patched from Rodimus's tantrum after...after the _incident_ with Overlord. Now, the captain — _co-captain_ — was meeting with Atomizer, haunched over the desk, discussing design palettes.

"You wanted to see me, captain?" Artemis approached, keeping an optic on the lanky interior designer, who backed away from the desk as though to give them space. She threw in the _captain_ bit for Rodimus's sake; his mood had not been the best since the ... _incident_ ... on Luna 2.

"I need your help," Rodimus stated without introduction. "We're...well, while I appreciate the work you do with your ... um ... extracurricular activities you partake in that we don't tell Magnus about to keep the coffers filled — "

"Bounty hunting and bootlegging," she snapped at Atomizer before the tallest of the three could say anything.

" — um...I didn't realise how much upkeep it would take to maintain — well, I did talk to Mirage about the situation, and he was the one who recommended that I start looking into having someone actually handle the treasury rather than shove receipts in the box — "

"Okay, gonna interrupt here." Artemis leaned up against the desk. "I'm not hooking you up with Sirian loan sharks. You do not want to get into their pocket. They will own you, own the ship, and when they come collecting, they'll take everything away and you'll still feel like you got the good end of the stick."

"Well, that wasn't exactly what I was thinking," Rodimus cleared his throat. "Y'see, and I don't know how much you heard from Cav — "

She rubbed her optics. "The GGN _Cogs of Combat_ competition? She wouldn't stop talking about it."

"Well...I'm thinking about clearing her to participate."

Artemis arched a brow. "It's being held on Monacus this stel."

"I know. That's why I'm sending an away team. I'm running it by you first because — well, I trust you to watch her back and keep some semblance of order with the others."

"Who's on the away team?" Artemis questioned. 

"I've asked them to assemble in officers' conference to discuss it as a unit. I'm going to get Atomizer set up here and I'll be down shortly, 'kay?"

"Monacus." She shook her head with a laugh, standing. "No clan affiliate, hive of villainy and deceit, gambler and smuggler haven? And I take it you haven't run this by Magnus?"

"I'm running it by you first and then asking for forgiveness later...?"

"I better have Skids and Whirl on that team," she chortled, pushing away from the desk and leaving the office without being dismissed.

 

*  
Officers' Conference Room  
Ten cycles later

"You are NOT putting me as the only heavy on this mission!" Palms slamming on the table's surface, Artemis leaned forward, glaring at Rodimus. Joining them were Smokescreen, Jackpot, and Cavalier, who barely contained her excitement as she sat crosslegged on the conference table between Artemis and Smokescreen. Hoist and Grapple were also present, sitting on either side of an inebriated Trailcutter.

Grapple said nothing, only pointed to the forcefield specialist, sporting a glazed expression.

"Only heavy willing to throw a punch," Hoist translated.

"Can we have an away mission that doesn't involve bar fights?" Trailcutter pleaded, haunched over the table to keep himself from swaying.

"Seriously not fair you started drinking without me," Artemis grumbled. Louder, she amended her complaint. "I can't be the only marginally sober heavy on this mission!"

Rodimus, at the head of the table, held up his hands. "I'm wanting discretion on this, Art. And Ratchet tells me you're medically prohibited from being in squads involving either Skids, Whirl, or both after the ... _incident ..._ on Luna 1."

"They had it coming to them!" she protested.

"You attacked a member of the Circle of Light!" Hoist reminded.

Artemis crossed her arms over her chest. "I defended my friends' honour after he assaulted them."

"You punched him in the throat after he called us a bunch of aimless drunkards — " the engineer continued.

"We are not aimless!" Trailcutter countered.

"There are times where I have to wonder," Hoist muttered.

Rodimus waited for them to finish the banter. "And while I appreciate the vote of confidence in the crew, I kinda have to side with Magnus that the choice of execution could have been a tiny bit less violent...?"

"As long as we stay away from Sheol's pits, we'll be fine," Smokescreen stated, rubbing his hands together. "From what I understand, the Galactic Gaming Network's hosting their competition on the more reputable side of the asteroid."

Hoist raised his hand. "So, question? From the only sane person in this room? Why exactly are we going to Monacus?"

"Coffers are getting kinda tight," Artemis beat Rodimus to the punch. "The pot for the Cee-Oh-Cee competition is fifty-thousand shanix, first place."

"And being that I'm a generous sort, I was thinking of covering meals and tolls and roll the rest back to the ship. Besides, what am I gonna do with fifty-thousand shanix, other than blow it on more video games?" Cavalier scoffed.

"Confident, aren't you?" Hoist questioned.

"Our Brat's a top runner on the regional leader board!" Smokescreen clapped the Minibot's shoulder. "No way she can lose! I've seen the odds!"

"Also, there's casinos," Jackpot pointed out. "Me and Smokescreen can clean house."

"And Artemis is to cover their afts to make certain they don't get caught in any sort of scheme," Rodimus added. "And Trailcutter's going to keep Art out of fights. And Hoist is going to keep Art and 'Cutter from sneaking off on their own. And Grapple's going to keep Hoist company if Art and 'Cutter do end up giving Hoist the slip. See? I can plan an away mission."

Grapple held up a finger again. "Can I just weigh in here and state that this is sounding less like a mission and more like a money-making scheme?"

"And you're condoning this?" Hoist questioned Artemis.

"I'll defer to the judgement of the ethics committee," she deflected.

"Whatever's going on, I'm in," Trailcutter stated.

"Are you even paying attention to the conversation?" Hoist demanded.

"We are not aimless," the inebriated member of the away team stressed. "And I am not to allow Art to get into any fights because Ratchet scares me."

"I'm still not following this Cee-Oh-Cee bit," Hoist scratched the back of his neck.

"You can explain it further en route," Rodimus ordered. "Shuttle bay Seven; your ride leaves in ten cycles."

***

_Weak Anthropic Principle_  
Sixty-seven light years away

"Fifty thousand shanix! First prize! Think of what we can do with that!" Misfire pleaded as he followed Crankcase around the bridge. "I mean, that would keep us going for at least, what, another stel or so?"

"Ten decacycles if we're frugal," Crankcase grumbled. "Five at our current rate of burn."

"Still, it's fifty thousand shanix!"

"If you win."

"Pfft. You've seen my ratings on the leader board in PvP mode. Besides, I'm running low on my network key. It's invite only! C'mon, it's fraggin' Monacus! It'll be a blast!"

"You've been going on about this for three sols straight; what makes you think my answer's going to change?"

"Because you don't want to be wrong. You don't want to be the one who says, 'Well, Misfire was right, he could win the Cee-Oh-Cee tourney and bring fifty-thousand to help with ship maintenance for the next stel — '"

"— five decaycles — "

"You don't want me to prove that it can be done!"

"Okay, first off?" Crankcase stopped short, turning to face the hyper flyer. "We've got the DJD on our afts because of your boyfriend." 

"He's not my boyfriend!" Fulcrum shouted from the corridor.

"Second, there's a two hundred shanix entry fee — "

"No problem. Hey, Fulcrum, do you have that two hundred shanix you borrowed from me?"

"I never borrowed two hundred shanix from you!"

"Yes you did! Remember that time on that planet with the things...?"

Crankcase glared at Misfire for a full cycle. "Your argument still sucks and I still say no."

"Seriously, you know what else you can do on Monacus?"

"Catch aft scraplets?"

"C'mon, it would be great for morale!"

"Since when do you care about morale?"

"Look, I'll be frank," Misfire held out his hands as though showing all his cards. "I'm on the leader board for this region of the Arm. I've got a hell of a chance of placing at least top five, which has cash prizes. Anything I get will be an asset for the ship. You guys can screw off to whatever the hell you want to do and I finally get to face off with my nemesis."

"No!" Crankcase pointed a finger at Misfire's nose. "You do remember what happened last time you did that?"

"This time's different! Besides, would the DJD seriously attack a pleasure asteroid with over one million of the shadiest characters this side of the Benzuli Expanse?"

"Five of them, one million random strangers looking to make a quick shannix...?"

"C'mon, Crankcase...!"

"I can't take it," Krok growled behind Fulcrum. "If they keep at it, I'm gonna kill one of them."

Fulcrum sighed, shoulders slumping. "Really, Crankcase, for our peace of mind, just let him have his fun."

"And when he gets his aft handed to him, we can all laugh at him," Krok growled. "Win-win."

Crankcase growled, then pointed at Fulcrum. "Fine, but you're going planetside to watch him."

Misfire squealed, racing out of the bridge. "Oh, frag yeah! Foxy Wreckin' Fazgear, you're going down in the most epic way possible!"

"Sounds like you got some competition for Misfire's affections," Crankcase directed to Fulcrum. 

The K-class arched a brow and frowned, but otherwise said nothing, only followed his hyperactive teammate. This...this was not how he planned to spend his down time.

**NEXT CHAPTER** : Stage Two


	2. Stage Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fulcrum finds himself separated from Misfire on a planet full of bounty hunters and mercenaries, and while Krok and Crankcase are sobering up to mount a rescue -- or so they say.
> 
> Meanwhile, Hoist is learning that chaperoning an easily distracted artist, a drunk roommate, and an ex-merc overcompensating for lack of on-board weapons is a migraine in waiting.

Welcome to stage two  
Please follow my instructions  
Count

One, two, three - dance with me  
One, two, three - move your feet  
One, two, three - feel the beat  
One, two, three - energy

—["Stage 2"](https://youtu.be/AxqL4RIkVek) by X-RX, from _Stage 2_  
  


Stump Intergalactic Entertainment(TM) Event Centre  
aka "Thunderdome"*   
_(* informal, as Thunderdome is currently trademarked by Warner Brothers of Earth [Sol III], but that does not stop many a participant to call it as such, regardless of polite reminders to cease and desist.**)_

_(** Galactic Sports Entertainment Magazine reports that Stump Intergalactic Entertainment(TM) may be in negotiations with Warner Brothers to purchase the rights to use "Thunderdome" for competitive sports events, but thus far these rumours are unfounded.)_

The first time Cavalier played _Cogs of Combat_ , she had been introduced to it by her fellow "Wreckers Junior" (as Springer affectionately called the newbies; Kup called them "aft scraplets") during breaks in training missions between Kimia and Debris. Her love of _Call of Duty_ and _Halo_ from her time on Earth gave her an edge: understanding the mechanics of death and respawning, something the hardier, robust races lacked. Death and respawning could lose precious clicks and inventory: where Cee-Oh-Cee, sometimes it was advantageous to take a hit to grab precious ammo or supplies.

That was where she struck. Her other unfair advantage: she ran with the Wreckers. Granted, she was amongst others in game who were wartime soldiers, whether in teams or player-versus-player. The beautiful thing about Cee-Oh-Cee was the attention to mechanics: there was a benefit to understanding the real-life physics of rifles, shotguns, sidearms, and explosives. You didn't just lob an EMP grenade into the same enclosed space you were standing in if you were playing a mechanoid. And then there was — 

"Primus, look at that crowd," Artemis whistled as they approached the arena, jostling Cavalier out of her thoughts. "I don't think the crowd on Hedonia was nearly this bad."

"Pfft. Nothing happened on Hedonia, save Magnus passing out and 'Cutter getting impounded. Really, the action happened when we got back on the ship, when the next morning I find you and your BFF snuggling on your berth. Second night in a row, yes, but first night, it was hot berth. Second night? That was _hot_ berth. Oh! Competitors' queue! Over here!" Cavalier grabbed Artemis's arm, dragging her to the much shorter line. "So the boys didn't want to send me off?"

"Boys had to watch my already-fendered BFF from doing anything inappropriate, and Smokescreen said he wanted to scope the casinos early; I'm surprised he's not here with us."

"Smokescreen's mad at me," Cavalier admitted, her tone taking a dive.

"Why would he be mad at you?"

"Because I've been chatting with his brother a lot."

"Bluestreak? Why would he be upset at you chatting — oh, are we talking 'chatting' with Ratchet quotes?"

"Okay, I told him day one I didn't do exclusive," Cavalier huffed. "I mean, I never had this issue with Twin Twist and Topspin, rest their sparks. Hell, those two were kinky."

"Digressing...." Artemis warned.

"Oh, like you never trined — "

"Really digressing...."

"So anyway, he was cool about it. Until Blue. Don't get it. Not like I'm asking them to trine, although that would be kinda hot — "

"Digressing. Maybe Smokescreen just feels weird about being involved with someone who's also involved with his brother. I know Pol'd flip if I was 'chatting' with one of his mechs." Artemis shrugged. "Yeah, he didn't talk to me for a good century after that incident — what?"

"You." Cavalier met her friend's gaze. "I've learnt more about your past in the last stel than the previous thirteen, and it was first-hand. I'm glad you came."

"So am I, Brat." Giving the smaller Autobot a rap on the helm, Artemis dropped to one knee, looking her companion in the optic. "You got a holdout, right? Shiv? Compact blaster? Comm? Extra shanix to get off planet if things go south?"

"Ain't my first rodeo in the shady underbelly of a resort world," Cavalier laughed. 

"Still," Artemis ejected a data slug from an arm compartment and held it out. "This is a beacon for Spiral. Don't use it unless things go atomic, but if you're in a situation where we can't get to you, you use that."

"Relax, boss lady, I've been in shadier places. Usually because Creep needed a wingmech and Sandstorm wasn't willing."  Cavalier took the slug and inserted it into her own storage compartment. "Go and have fun with 'Cutter and the boys. They won't be doing the spectator thing here until the top tiers."

Artemis kept a bead on her friend as Cavalier disappeared into the arena via a side door. "Yeah, she'll be fine," the black and chrome mech muttered in attempt to convince herself.

The boys, on the other hand....

 

*

Somewhere ahead in the queue

 

"Tell me you didn't have any circuit boosters before planetfall?" Fulcrum demanded as Misfire hopped from one foot to the other in excitement.

"Pfft. These dudes have a strict on-site no-drugs policy."

"You didn't actually deny it, you know."

"I have not taken anything since planetfall, I assure you."

"Do you think this is Crankcase's way of getting us killed?" Fulcrum questioned, allowing the previous to drop.

"Oh, most likely." Misfire leaned forward with a wide grin before draping an arm around his comrade. "Guess we'll have to prove him wrong, eh?"

"You know, I'm starting — no, wait, I take that back. I know this is a bad idea. Seriously, we should get back to the _WAP_ —"

"C'mon! Stop acting like a protoform!" Misfire laughed. "You see the security here? No one's getting in. The GGN hired the best security in the Arm! Unbribeable, even! We're good!"

At the door, a large mechanoid was scanning key cards of the entrants. Some were turned away. "Probably trying to sneak in," Misfire whispered loudly. "Remember, act natural. Neutral planet, no one's gonna toss us — "

"You," a guard, from the insectoid race of the Galactic Council's ruling party, pointed to Fulcrum. "Out."

"Wait, why?" Fulcrum demanded.

"Yeah, he's my good luck charm!" Misfire countered, hugging his companion's arm, before nuzzling the K-Classer's helm, who protested.

"Not on the list," the guard ordered. "No key, no entry."

"Welp, I tried," Misfire shrugged. "I'm certain there's plenty of bars for you to get blitzed in while you're waiting for the finals. Have fun!"

"Hey, I'm not supposed to let you out of my sight!"

"Too bad, loser! Catch you on the flip side!" Misfire waved, entering the arena as Fulcrum was unceremoniously yanked out of the queue. 

Surrounded by gaming enthusiasts — and likely a few bounty hunters in the mix — Fulcrum panicked, before pulling out his communicator. "Crankcase, respond! We have a situation!"

_"Already? Frag, I just lost ten shanix to Krok."_

_"Told you!"_ Krok shouted.

"We've been separated; I can't gain entry!"

_"And how is this a bad thing...?"_ Crankcase questioned.

"Do you know anything about Monacus?" Fulcrum hissed, as though terrified of being overheard. "If you haven't forgotten, I'm on The List! And likely now you guys have been added to it as well!"

_"Just lay low. Find a crowd or something. We'll think of something."_

"Wait." Fulcrum paused for dramatics. "Are you guys drunk?"

_"Not all of us,"_ Krok stated. _"Apparently Grimlock doesn't like engex."_

"You're telling me the only one not blitzed out of their brains is — "

_"Oi, we're not blitzed! Okay, well, Spinister may be blitzed, because he and his hand are having quite the lovers' row, but..."_

"Oh, for frag's sake," Fulcrum snarled. "Look, I need backup."

_"And we need to sober up. Give us a few megacycles. Fraggit, I was hoping to avoid saving your carcasses."_

_"We could, you know, raid the place?"_ Krok suggested.

Crankcase said nothing, but likely as a pause for dramatics. _"I'll consider that once I sober up. Fulcrum, you're in charge of the planetside mission until I get there._ WAP _out."_

"Oh, wonderful. Thanks. Really. I mean it, guys. Thank you." Fulcrum spoke to the dead air. "In charge of what? Keeping myself alive?" Returning his comm to its holster, he studied the crowds, and, keeping his head down, disappeared into the mass.

 

*  
Pub District  
Twenty-five cycles later

 

"Well, this is new; usually we're dragging you out of a pub in a stupor," Artemis observed. She and Hoist walked on either side of Trailcutter as they entered Monacus Proper, queueing up in the checkpoint line to enter the Spring and Widget pub. 

"How did I get involved in this 'mission'?" Hoist grumbled.

"You're the voice of reason amongst those of us who tend to be mentally divergent," Grapple replied. He had taken up Hoist's right, just behind his friend. "You're to keep us rooted in reality, to make certain we don't stray onto the primrose path."

"We watch out for one another," Trailcutter explained as they ventured to the weapons' checkpoint. "We all have skills and assets that compliment the other, and together we are an unstoppable force of good. I'm fortunate that I have such great friends. In case anything should happen, I want it to be known that I love you guys and did you have to bring your entire kit with you?"

"Tell me you didn't find a bottle of Betelgeusean Sunrise before we left." Hoist followed his roommate's gaze and let out an exasperated groan. Artemis had already unholstered her multifunction rifle and Paladin shotgun, and was checking in both her sidearms. Her sledge hammer was still at holster at the small of her back. 

"And if you did, why aren't you sharing?" Grapple added.

"If it was the Sunrise, he'd be tripping ball bearings on top of everything else — what?" She regarded first Hoist, then Trailcutter, with feigned innocence, removing the sledge before holding her arms out, allowing the guard to pat her down for hold-out weapons. "I packed light — I left my big hammer on the ship."

"I love how practised she is with protocol," Grapple grinned. "Overcompensating for the lack of on board weapons, my guess."  
"You're only trying to get a rise from me. Newsflash: not gonna - oi!" Artemis jumped as her consort groped her right hip. "Ratchet confiscated my flask, remember?"

"I'm still trying to figure out how Rodimus got approval for this mission," Trailcutter muttered, settling on resting his chin atop Artemis's helm. "Seems a bit dicey to me."

"That's because it is," Hoist groused.

"Covert ops, love." Artemis accepted the permit receipt from the guard and returned her weapons to their holsters.  
Hoist's shoulders shook with either a sob or a laugh. "Primus grant me strength," he pleaded.

"Oi, big guy," the guard, a Tauran, beckoned in Galactic Standard, "you got weapons to declare? Like a back-mounted rocket-launcher or something?"

"Not a rocket-launcher," the four retorted simultaneously, followed by Trailcutter's "though sometimes I wish it was," under his breath.

"Mope alert," Grapple muttered. 

On cue, Hoist stepped up to the counter and explained to the guard regarding their companion's forcefield generator. "Our friend is a defence specialist, you see...."

"Leg guns," she reminded. "C'mon, fanboy, tell 'em about the leg guns." Looping her arm around her companion's waist, she pointed to the modification in question.

"You do wear them better than Max, by the by," Grapple hissed, exaggerated, as Hoist vented once more.

"He does, doesn't he?" Artemis agreed. "Okay, Hoist, gonna have to wrap this up and find a place to camp, 'cuz 'Cutter's recharging on my shoulder."

"Am not," Trailcutter protested. 

"Wouldn't be the first time," Artemis purred, patting his thigh. "Like the time when we found Luna 1...?"

The guard shared Hoist's sentiment. "Just go," he waved them on. "Don't cause trouble, or I'll bust yer arse. Just 'cause you're Cybertronian don't mean I can't handle you."

"Our thanks," Hoist concluded, following the other three. Out of hearing range, he growled to the former mercenary, "Was that necessary?"

"They didn't check you or Grapple, did they?" Artemis grinned. "And, technically, neither did they check 'Cutter." She hooked her free arm with the green Autobot's. "Admit it: I'm good."

"Please don't pick a fight," Hoist pleaded. "I'm asking you nicely: it's bad enough we're dealing with a questionable mission, but I really don't want to explain to Ultra Magnus why he has to negotiate conditions of your bail."

"Technically, not an ask," Grapple pointed out, pulling Hoist's other arm. "But more importantly, who else is interested in checking out the architecture? I've learnt that the current design for their events centre is based off of the Lithonian Gilded Age — "

"No offence, Grapple, but boring!" Trailcutter interrupted. "Besides, I have to make certain Art stays in one spot."

"And this is exactly the reason why I like having Art with us; she at least pretends to be interested in what I have to say," the caution-yellow mech griped.

"All right, plan time," Artemis initiated, handing Grapple the Paladin. "You're in charge of the boomstick, while Handsome here," she unholstered the rifle once more, presenting it to Trailcutter, "gets to rock Serendipity."

"Why does he get the rifle?" Grapple protested.

"Dippy's a lady; she likes him," the black and chrome mech retorted. "She's particular. The Paladin's a tramp. Hoist, you don't mind being our token field medic, do you? I'd rather not be without ranged or melee."

"I suppose I could live with the decision of being the only one not sneaking your weapons into an establishment with a no-carry policy."

"It's more of a no open-carry policy of off-board weapons," she corrected. "And seeing that I have this issue with packing more than what I can legitimately carry in my compartments...."

"Where to go with that comment...?" Hoist jested.

"At this rate, the only place we'll be able to keep tabs on you is in 'Breaker's lap," Grapple added. 

"Now that isn't a bad idea," the largest of the four grinned, draping an arm over both Artemis's and Hoist's shoulders; Grapple had taken to Hoist's left, linking arm with arm.

Hoist groaned, but did not pull away from his friends. "I think we need to set some ground rules: Artemis, no fights; Grapple, no wandering off; Trailbreaker, no — "from the corner of his optic, he caught the mech in question pulling Artemis closer for a kiss, " — gratuitous public displays of affection _do you really have to do that right now_?!"

"Then stop giving him ideas!" Artemis laughed, playfully ducking away from her beau's amorous advances.

"You could do well to maintain some restraint in the process!"

"Restraint. Re...straint. Re...nope, not comprehending."

"Primus help me...." Hoist pleaded, though his optics betrayed his mirth as they entered the Spring and Widget. Maybe, just maybe, for one night, they could get away without drama or posting bails.

**NEXT CHAPTER:** Gimme Three Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Dedications: Enfilade because she inspired this fic; jmercedesd because she loves Misfire; and LibraryMinion because after she read MTMTE Volume Seven she sent me a plea to deviate just a little from using the canon as an outline. I told here there was six months where we had some play. I had to send her a drabble that I wrote to cope. I don't think it helped.
> 
> Also, this has to be the first time where I watched _Red vs. Blue_ as research/inspiration for a fic.
> 
> First chapter isn't too bad, but I'm rating the story "mature" due to the fact I can't trust my OCs to behave. Check tags after each update, but there's amateur porn trading, mechs sneaking off for more than just a snog, barfights, enabling behaviour, destruction of public property, and quite possibly a political coup or three in the future.


End file.
